


I Know What's Good for You

by GlitterCrow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crying, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injections, M/M, Medical Kink, Needle Phobia, Needles, Reluctant Will, Scared Will Graham, Sick Will, Sickfic, Suppositories, kind of dub-con?, rectal temperature
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCrow/pseuds/GlitterCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon prompt from my tumblr:  </p><p>Hannibal taking Will's rectal temperature and finding he's running one. He decides to give Will a few injections in the butt and also some suppositories, but Will is really scared of both of them so Hannibal has to soothe him a while. It'd be awesome if Hannibal was really sweet and caring with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm being a little more liberal with the characters, purely for my own enjoyment. I hope you enjoy as well! ^^

 

By the 24 minute mark, Hannibal could wait no more.  Will had quickly excused himself to the bathroom after looking especially pale during their session.  Hannibal waited patiently, but as the minutes grew longer, he found himself checking his wristwatch every few seconds, debating on whether to check on Will or give him privacy.  With a sigh, he pushed himself off the leather chair.  

 

He waited near the door a moment before knocking. “Will, are you all right?”

 

There was no reply at first.  Hannibal was about to repeat himself when he heard a faint “no”.

 

“May I come in?” Dr. Lecter asked softly.  He heard a sniffling noise and the toilet flush before Will answered “yeah…”

 

He turned the doorknob and saw Will huddled on the floor next to the sink.  By his appearance and the smell of the stale air, it was obvious he had vomited.  His brown curls were drenched with sweat, his breathing was ragged, and he was shivering.  He looked absolutely pitiful.

 

“M’sorry… I got sick…” he panted, rubbing his eyes.

 

“It’s all right, there’s no need for that.  Come, I have a guest room; you need to lie down.”  Hannibal spoke kindly as he offered his hand to Will.

 

Will sighed and took it, standing up on shaky legs.  He followed Hannibal to the room, trying to focus on not getting sick again.  The room was just as tastefully decorated as the rest of his office, but the only thing Will was concerned about was how comfy the bed looked.

 

Will stood in front of the bed, staring at the expensive down comforter.  “I-I shouldn’t... What if I get sick again?” he asked.

 

Hannibal pulled open a dresser and brought over a tee shirt and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms.  “Bedding can be washed.  Don’t worry about that.  Why don’t you change into this and lie down – I’ll be back in a moment,” He said, placing the pyjamas on the bed.

 

Will didn’t have time to object – Hannibal was already closing the door behind him.  He couldn’t deny that the pyjamas looked immensely more comfortable than the clothes he sweated through while he was lying on Hannibal’s bathroom floor, but he stood, unsure.  He just wanted to go home, but he knew it would be foolish to try and argue with Hannibal, especially in his current state.  Not wanting to think any more, he reluctantly changed into the pyjamas and eased himself on the bed, lying on top of the comforter.  He tried to sleep, but he was in too much pain.  

 

Hannibal returned a few minutes later, lightly knocking on the door.  Will watched as a small cart was wheeled into the room, stopping next to the bed.  Among other supplies, his eyes detected three syringes in a neat row on a blue sterile towel and he suddenly began to question his decision to stay.  Hannibal stepped next to Will and placed a hand on his forehead.

 

“You feel feverish… Did you only vomit?  What other symptoms are you having?" Hannibal asked, picking up a glass thermometer.

 

“J-just throwing up… My head and stomach hurt pretty bad as well.” Will admitted.

 

Will shifted uncomfortably when Dr. Lecter opened up a jar of Vaseline that was on the cart. How did he miss seeing that?

 

“What… what’s the Vaseline for?” Will asked nervously.  He was sure he already knew the answer, but refused to believe it.

 

"I'm terribly sorry, Will.  It seems the batteries in my digital thermometer have died...  I only have this glass rectal thermometer here," Dr Lecter lied, dipping the end of the thermometer into the Vaseline.

 

"I need you to pull your pants and boxers down for me." 

 

"F-for real?  B-but… I… you don’t.. you don’t have t-to!” Will sputtered. 

 

"I need to assess your temperature, Will. We’re both adults here.  Besides, this is the most accurate method."  He stood in front of Will, waiting patiently.  

 

Will gave a little huff.  He knew Hannibal enough to know he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  Hannibal was a doctor, after all, but Will never had his temperature taken this way.  It was horrifyingly humiliating.  He was in pain, though, and knew he’d have to do whatever Hannibal asked in order to receive his help.  He finally relented and rolled onto his side, pulling his pyjama bottoms down a little.  

 

Hannibal moved closer to Will and pulled the pyjamas down _all_ the way, much to Will’s displeasure.  This displeasure was forgotten the moment Will felt Dr. Lecter spread apart his cheeks.  Will pushed his face deep into the pillow in sheer embarrassment.  His stomach tensed as he braced himself for the intrusion.  

 

Dr. Lecter took a brief moment to cherish the view of Will's puckered little hole before delicately sliding the thermometer into Will's anus.   The Vaseline made it impossible for Will to resist the insertion.  Hannibal shuddered with pleasure when he heard a small whimper from underneath the pillow Will had buried himself in. 

 

"It takes 3 minutes for an accurate reading... I understand it's difficult, but try to relax."  Dr. Lecter said, glancing at the clock in his room.  Will gave a muffled sarcastic laugh from his hiding place.  

 

Will wanted to tell Dr. Lecter that he didn’t need to hold the thermometer in his ass for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.  He was frozen.  He tried to count the seconds in his head, but he knew he was counting way too fast to be accurate.  Or maybe Dr. Lecter was over the 3 minute mark…

 

Finally, he felt the wretched thing slide out of him.  Will exhaled and immediately pulled up his pyjama bottoms.  Well, at least this night couldn’t get any worse than _that._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Will couldn’t bear to watch as Hannibal held up the thermometer that was just pulled out of his ass to look at the reading.

 

“Will… You have a fever of over 104°.  I’m going to have to give you some medicine right away,” Hannibal said, wiping off the thermometer and cleaning it with alcohol.

 

Will rolled over onto his other side, facing Hannibal.  “What like... Like aspirin and Alka-Seltzer?”

 

Hannibal gave a remorseful smile.  “No, I’m afraid not.  Due to your vomiting, I’ll have to administer both suppositories and intramuscular injections.”

 

Will’s eyes grew wide and he sat up on the bed.  If there was any color remaining in his face, it was instantly gone.  “N-no! Why can’t I just take a pill?!” he implored.

 

“Will… you’re likely to vomit any oral medication I give you,” Hannibal argued.  Will was crestfallen; Hannibal was right.

 

Hannibal started to gather the supplies he needed from the cart.  He’d give Will an antipyretic injection for his fever and an injection of analgesia for pain first.  He began drawing the first syringe, all while Will continued to beg.

 

“Please!   Please don’t, Dr. Lecter! I’m fine – I swear! J-just give me an aspirin and let me sleep it off,”  he pleaded desperately.  

 

“Will, that’s quite enough. This is the same treatment you’d get at the hospital, and if you don’t cooperate, that’s where you’re going." 

 

Hannibal was filling up the second syringe and flicking out the air bubbles when he heard Will sniffling.  He looked over at Will with a raised eyebrow.  

 

“Puh-please… I can’t…” Will whimpered quietly. “I’m s-scared of needles… I- I even pass out when... when they take my blood for tests sometimes…”  Will’s lower lip quivered as he spoke and tears began to roll down his cheek.  Hannibal had never seen anything more pitiful or adorable.

 

Hannibal sat down on the bed next to Will and put his hand on Will’s back.  Will hung his head in shame, sniveling and shuddering, tears falling and landing on his lap.  He'd been upset by injections before, but he never broke down like this.  He was mortified but couldn't stop the tears. 

 

“It’s a common phobia, Will.  I didn’t know needles frightened you, but that doesn’t change the fact they are necessary.  Your fever is very high and I wouldn’t put you through this if there was another way,”  Hannibal quietly spoke.  Will nodded but said nothing.

 

Hannibal’s hand began to rub small circles on Will’s back.  Whether it was the illness or the comforting touch of another, Hannibal didn't know, but Will leaned against Hannibal, resting his fatigued head on Hannibal’s shoulder.  Hannibal felt a rush of excitement; like a wild bird was eating out of his hands.  He continued to massage Will’s back for several minutes, the both of them sitting in silence.

 

“O-okay… I’ll take the shots.” Will finally spoke, sitting up and wiping his eyes with his arm.  Hannibal reached over to the cart and retrieved the syringes.

 

“Good… I’ll help you through them.” 

 

Hannibal began placing pillows on his lap and to his side.  “Lay down across my lap,” He instructed.

 

Will looked at him quite skeptically.  Hannibal just nodded and patted on the pillows, urging Will to trust him.  "Come on."  

 

“What the _hell_ did I get myself into?” Will breathed as he awkwardly laid across his therapist’s lap.  He almost felt like a child about to get a spanking.  Will quickly shook the image out of his head.  

 

“You’re in good hands,” Hannibal smiled, pulling down Will's pajama bottoms for the second time that night.  Will felt his fevered face grow even hotter from humiliation.  Hannibal cleansed a large patch of skin so he could deliver the injections one immediately after the other.

 

Hannibal noticed Will's breathing was quickening so he placed a hand on Will’s lower back to comfort him.  He raised the syringe.  “Here’s the first one… Deep breath,” He said as he plunged the needle into the curve of Will’s rounded bottom.

 

“Owww!” Will hissed, clenching his cheeks together.  It stung - badly.  The only thing that kept him on the bed was Hannibal's hand on his back. 

 

“Shhh - I know... I know...” Hannibal murmured soothingly.  He quickly capped the needle and grasped the second syringe.

 

Hannibal put his hand on Will’s lower back again.  He was about to deliver the second injection when Will suddenly spoke out. “W-wait…”

 

Hannibal stayed his hand.  “What is it?”  

 

“Would you huh-hold my hand?” Will blurted out.  He knew it made him sound pathetic, but he felt like hell and he was terrified, so he was beyond caring at this point. 

 

Hannibal smiled. “Of course.”  He just wanted someone to hold his hand.

 

He took Will’s hand and Will grasped it tightly, bracing himself.  Hannibal felt pity stab his gut when he felt how cold and clammy Will’s hand was from fear.  "It's all right, Will... It will be over in just a second," he promised. 

 

Hannibal delivered the second injection and Will flinched a little, but didn’t cry out this time.  He squeezed Hannibal’s hand so hard it hurt, but Hannibal didn’t mind in the least – he was Will’s security right now.  When the needle was pulled out and only the sting remained, Will slumped over Hannibal’s lap and let his hand fall limp. Hannibal patted it before using both hands to pull up Will’s pyjama bottoms.

 

“There we go…” Hannibal muttered softly.  

 


	3. Proper Preperation

 

After a few moments, Will pushed himself up off of Hannibal’s lap.  As he sat up, another wave of nausea hit him hard.  He winced as the unmistakable ache rose inside him.  He tried to hold his breath, hoping to prevent getting sick again, but his body had other plans.  Will shakily sank to the floor, sitting and holding his head in his hands.  Hannibal recognized the inevitable and retrieved a kidney-shaped tray from the cart.  He held it in front of Will just before he started to wretch.  Since there was nothing left in Will's belly, it was mostly drool that came out of his mouth.  Will whimpered as his head slumped forward from heaving so hard.

 

He didn’t even notice Dr. Lecter had gotten up and left the room until he was coming back in with a jug of water, a bowl, and washcloths draped over his arm.  He crouched down on the floor next to Will who was resting his back against the bed, panting with exhaustion.

 

Will looked up at Dr. Lecter and gave a weak smile.  “I- I didn’t get any… anything on your n-nice bed.”

 

Hannibal frowned.  He poured a little water into a glass on the nightstand and handed it to Will.  “Here… swish it around to get the taste out of your mouth and spit it in the pan.  Then try to drink a few sips for me; but only a few sips.”

 

Will nodded with half lidded eyes and did exactly as Dr. Lecter instructed.  As he rinsed the bile taste out of his mouth, he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.  His ass was still quite tender from the injections and it hurt to sit on it.

 

Will looked up at Dr. Lecter who immediately understood.  He wordlessly hoisted Will up and helped him back into the bed.  He then poured water into the bowl he brought from the kitchen and dampened a washcloth.  Will closed his eyes as he felt Dr. Lecter press the washcloth to his forehead. It felt really comforting. Hannibal moved the washcloth over the rest of Will’s face.  He even wiped the spittle away from around Will’s mouth, which Will did not protest.

 

Will was drifting off when he heard Dr. Lecter work his hands into a pair of latex gloves. The familiar sound made Will look over with dread in his eyes. He remembered the other part of Dr. Lecter’s recommended treatment.  There was no way he could argue he wouldn't throw up pills now. 

  
  
"No... I don't want those things..." He weakly protested.  It was too humiliating to even say the word out loud.

  
  
"Suppositories are an effective way to deliver medication to patients suffering emesis," Dr. Lecter explained as he unwrapped the two bullet-shaped capsules.

  
  
"But... Th-they'll hurt..." Will argued as he wiggled under the covers to further distance himself from Dr. Lecter.  Will wasn't consciously trying to be obstinate; when he felt especially miserable, he tended to regress to a whiny childlike mentality.  He never had anyone take care of him when he was sick so it usually wasn't an issue.

  
  
"No they won't - with proper preparation they'll slide right in," Dr. Lecter assured.

  
  
"P-proper preparation?" Will echoed nervously.

  
  
He followed Hannibal's eyes to the cart and saw a small bottle of lubrication.  Worry creased Will's face and he scooted back against the headboard.  It was too much to endure.  He knew Dr. Lecter was trying to help him, but why did he insist on using such embarrassing methods?  If he didn't believe Dr. Lecter would make good on his threat to take him to a hospital, Will would have darted from Dr. Lecter's office long ago.

  
  
There was some resistance when Dr. Lecter tried to pull the comforter down. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

  
  
Due to his vomiting, Will was too weak to maintain his grip on the comforter and frowned when the protective barrier slipped out of his fingers.  He wrapped his arms around his knees, just wanting to be left alone and sleep off his illness, but he knew being under the care of a doctor meant no such luxury.

  
  
"I need you to roll over onto your stomach and pull your pants down to your thighs, Dr. Lecter instructed.

  
  
Will's lips tightened, but he slowly obeyed and laid face down on the bed.  Since Dr. Lecter specified how low his pants were to be pulled down this time, he reluctantly followed these instructions as well.

  
  
"Can you please hold yourself open for me?" Dr. Lecter asked as he coated two fingertips of his left hand generously with lubrication.

  
  
"Wh-what?!" Will exclaimed, pushing himself up on his elbows.

  
  
"Or you can lay across my lap again, if that's easier," Dr. Lecter said simply.  Those were Will's only options, it seemed.  Will looked away, both embarrassed and angry.  He gave an irritated sigh, but wrapped both hands around to his backside, slightly parting his ass cheeks.

  
  
"Excellent, just like that..." Dr. Lecter praised.

  
  
"God, please don't say things like that... Just... Just hurry up." Will said, blushing furiously.

  
  
"I find it helps patient anxiety if I offer encouragement and announce everything I'm doing," Dr. Lecter said.

  
  
"Do what you have to..." Will muttered, turning his face to the side.

  
  
"I'm going to work lubrication into you using my fingertip so your entire rectum is coated." He said.

  
  
Will shuddered when Dr. Lecter press a fingertip to his anus. It was held it there for a moment before it moved a tiny bit inside.  The intrusion caused Will to suck in a deep breath. 

 

"It's all right... It will help if you bear down," Dr. Lecter softly spoke as he pushed in deeper.

  
  
Will whined when Dr. Lecter's finger got past the first knuckle. It didn’t hurt terribly, but it was much bigger than the thermometer and he kept going deeper.

  
  
"I'm going to move my finger now," Dr. Lecter cautioned. 

 

The finger twisted counterclockwise and Will moaned at the unfamiliar feeling. "Ooohh, suh-stop.. I don- I don't like it..." He choked. His hands trembled, trying to maintain their grasp. 

 

Instead, Dr. Lecter shushed him and after making a few complete circles inside, he announced he was going to insert a second finger.

  
  
"Nnnnnngh. No-don't," Will groaned.  His fingernails dug deep into his own skin as he felt the second finger join the first one.

  
  
After the initial stretch, Dr. Lecter rotated both fingertips inside Will, pulling them out slightly only to work them back in again.  To Will's his utter disbelief, his cock started to harden from the probing.  He wasn't sure if Dr. Lecter was rubbing his prostate or not since no one had ever touched him like this before and he didn’t know what prostate stimulation felt like.  He wasn’t about to ask, either. 

  
  
Beyond the discomfort, Will was extremely thankful he wasn't on Dr. Lecter's lap.  However, his imagination was quick to conjure up the situation in his mind.

  
  
 _Will saw himself squirming on Dr. Lecter's lap, when the doctor suddenly stops.  He can feel the erection rub against his leg and Will knows it. The imaginary Hannibal tuts and asks in a belittling voice, "Oh my, William, what do we have here?  Will tries to apologize but is cut off by Dr. Lecter. "Is this... Turning you on?" He asks in an accusatory tone that cuts through Will._  
  
  
Will blinked and quickly attributed the bizarre daydream to his high fever and passes off his half-hard cock as a natural response.  His internal struggles were interrupted when Dr. Lecter spoke again.

  
  
"Just little more lube," he announced.  Will tried to muffle his moan into a pillow when Dr. Lecter unexpectedly scissored his fingers, spreading Will's hole wide open.  A string of lube was drizzled in the opened space and Dr. Lecter resumed, working his fingers in all directions until Will's hole was relaxed and quite slippery, all while Will whined and choked on grunts.

  
  
"Please... Please. Stop-please," Will begged desperately when he felt a hint arousal spread inside his belly. It was shocking and he was completely ashamed of himself.  His disgrace quickly manifested itself as tears that welled in his tired eyes.  He felt like shit; why would his body respond like that?  Will promptly let go of his bottom and brought both arms up to cover his face while he started to weep.

  
  
Dr. Lecter immediately stopped, his fingers making an obscene squishing noise as they exited.

  
  
That was it. The mortifying sound was the push over the cliff that broke Will’s pride.  He curled into a fetal position, pants still around his thighs, and started to cry his heart out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Augh - it was an anon who requested this so I'm not sure if I should make it hannigram or not. Maybe have it stay platonic and Will think about it "later"? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I think we all know it's going to get much worse... hehe.


End file.
